And We Go On
by Maegfen
Summary: They may have arrived safely, but Abby and Kane soon find that life on Earth does not always go as smoothly as they had hoped... - Post S1 finale
1. Chapter 1

So I thought I'd try and write something set after the S1 finale, mainly because the wait for S2 is so long but also because I wanted to write about what could happen. So here it is. It's a little different from what I've written for these two before; more drawn out and more 'serious', hopefully more like the show itself.

I've got a general idea of where this is going, but no idea how many chapters. I'll update as often as I can :)

Feedback is greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

It was, Abby thought, incredibly peaceful as she stood on top of the station, gazing out into the beauty of the world that surrounded her. She described the landscape to Jaha as he requested, and instantly felt regret that he would never experience the wonders of their new home. He had worked so hard to get them here only to be denied the chance to lead his people on the ground.

She heard someone else climb the ladder out of the station behind her and saw the familiar dark hair of Kane out of the corner of her eye. She didn't turn to face him, just allowed him to take in the wonder of where they had landed. It was something he should experience without her input. After a few seconds, she turned her head to look at him, to _say_ something poignant about the occasion, but he immediately drew her attention to something in the distance.

"Abby, look," he whispered, his gaze focused on something over her shoulder. She turned and spotted the smoke.

"There's smoke in the distance. It might be another station. We'll check it out."

Jaha's voice suddenly had a hint of confidence about it; as if her words had given him hope that maybe, somewhere out there, more people of had survived the landing on Earth.

"You do that. Find the rest of our people Abby. Find Clarke."

He said nothing else so Abby quickly relayed Thelonious' reply to Kane, who merely nodded and continued to focus on the thick trail of smoke that rose into the air.

"We should get back inside," he said quietly after a minute, reaching over and placing his hand softly on her arm to get her attention. "See how many people we have. We need to start building a camp, get some security set up, sort out supplies."

Abby nodded, pausing to take in the beautiful landscape once more. She turned and smiled sorrowfully at the man stood beside her.

"You're right," she replied, glancing back towards the trail of smoke in the distance. Just for now, it would have to wait.

* * *

Abby and Kane spent the next few hours helping the other Mecha survivors get out of the wrecked station, watching as they took in their breathtaking new home with the same wonder that they had. There were supplies and construction tools to remove from the station and everyone seemed enthusiastic to start setting up their new home while a couple of injuries kept Abby busy as Kane organized the placement of the temporary shelters they'd brought from the Ark. It wasn't a major operation, but it was enough to keep the remaining survivors distracted from the smoke that still drifted into the air from the nearby mountainside.

Whenever anyone asked her about it Abby merely stated that they weren't sure what it was, and that the survivors _here_ were their priority for the moment, that they'd investigate the site in due course. It was a typical 'council' response, but what more could she do? She couldn't confide her fears that it was the remnants of the hundred's camp, nor could she admit to them that it could be the destroyed remains of a station that may well have contained their friends and family. Fortunately, all those who asked seemed to accept her answer, and Abby was able to focus on setting up the camp.

The remaining survivors had immediately looked to Kane for instructions; knowing that he was the only remaining member of the council alive. Despite their attitudes towards him following the Culling, the fact that he'd been willing to sacrifice himself to save them all had obviously had an impact and old grievances appeared to be forgotten. He delegated tasks and provided support for them all, but Abby, watching carefully as she tended to the wounded, noted that he seemed to lack some of his usual confidence, as if he'd lost a part of himself on their journey to the ground.

She made a note to herself to check up on him later in the afternoon, to make sure that everything was ok. They couldn't afford to let old arguments prevent them from co-operating now. Their attitude towards each other had changed in the last few days; since the launch of the Exodus ship and her rescue from the Service Bay by Kane. Abby was unsure what the subtle shift signified, hadn't had the opportunity to mull it over, but whatever it was could only be a positive thing surely. Any tentative friendship she endeavored on with Kane could only help the camp as a whole. She realized, as the man in question looked up at her from across the small patch of grass, that she was staring. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question and she smiled, shaking her head. There was nothing wrong; she'd just been caught up in her thoughts.

She turned her attention elsewhere and spotted Sinclair in the distance, ordering a couple of younger men around with some bigger pieces of equipment. As soon as he had been able, the engineer had set up a temporary communication center in the hope that if any of the other stations had landed safely they would be able to get in touch with them as soon as possible. So far there had been nothing on any of the frequencies, but Abby held out hope that there were others out there… there had to be. No one hadn't heard from Jaha either since she and Kane had stood on top of the station, so they were truly on their own in trying to communicate with anyone else. It wasn't an ideal situation of course, but it was the hand that they'd been dealt, and Abby knew that they were all capable of handling any of the issues that might arise.

* * *

An hour later and she was in the process of setting up a small makeshift tent for medical supplies, her hands rummaging through a bag full of medicine, when she heard a cough at the doorway. It was Kane. He stood almost anxiously at the doorway, eyeing her carefully as she moved around the improvised area.

She gestured for him to come in, which he did. Abby watched as he took a seat next to the small table she had set up. Abby saw that he was holding a small metal cup and he raised it up to her.

"Water," he said simply. "It's from the lake; Sinclair ran a couple of tests and found it radiation free and safe to drink."

"That's excellent news," Abby said, relieved. That had been one of their main concerns, that the water wouldn't be drinkable and that they'd struggle for fresh water for the remaining survivors. Kane reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small flask. Abby raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"I brought some for you," he commented simply, passing it over. "I'm probably correct in thinking that you haven't drunk anything since we landed?"

Abby accepted the flask graciously and nodded as she unscrewed the lid to take a deep pull of the water. The liquid was warm but refreshing and she closed her eyes at the sensation. She placed the flask carefully back on the counter and turned back to face Kane, whose face was impassive.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, watching the man opposite scan the tent, as if cataloging everything inside.

"We need to set up camp for the night to start. I've already got a couple of men on security detail, just in case we have any unexpected visitors. Priorities will obviously be food, water and shelter. There are plenty of trees around, although we _are_ limited by the number of tools we have available to us."

"Well," she started, looking up at him, "the kids managed to build a wall and shelters from what they landed in. I'm sure we're resourceful enough to do the same for the time being."

Kane nodded in agreement. They each took a drink of their respective water, eyes not leaving the others. Abby felt a flutter in her stomach at his gaze, but chose to ignore it; now was not the time. The two of them sat in silence for a minute or so, although, Abby noted, it wasn't particularly uncomfortable. She studied the man in front of her as he sat, occasionally taking a drink of water. Kane eventually put his cup down and folded his arms across his chest, looking pensive. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again and sighed slightly.

"What is it Kane?" She asked. Was there a problem? Had Sinclair heard something on the radio? _Oh God… what if it was the hundred? What if…_

"I need your help," he finally admitted, locking eyes with her.

It certainly wasn't what she'd expected him to say, and confusion spread across her face. Sure, she'd figured she would assist him if he required her involvement, but she'd never expected him to _ask_. She'd just been willing to provide input whenever she deemed it necessary, to leave him to the job he'd craved for years.

"But I'm not really sure I _can _he…"

He held his hands up, signaling her to stop.

"No, Abby, I do need your help. Granted we've not always seen eye to eye, but I can't do this on my own. I need advice so that I… we… don't destroy our best chance of surviving here. And I don't need you working for me… I need you working _with_ me."

She felt honored really, that Kane still viewed her as a valuable ally despite everything. Something had shifted between them since the Culling, as if they had a mutual understanding now about how the future of the human race needed to go forward.

"Are we going to have a council?"

He nodded, smiling softly.

"It makes sense; there's little point in ignoring one of the things that worked on the Ark, especially as we're still trying to establish a sense of order here." He hesitated slightly before he continued. "But no more secrets if we can help it. I'm not having more plots and death because we stubbornly refused to acknowledge that we weren't perfect. _They_," he pointed outside, obviously indicating the rest of the survivors, "already know that _I'm_ not perfect so it's a promising start."

Abby realized then that the man in front of her had changed so much in such a short amount of time. Where was the man who never admitted he was wrong? The one who never backed down from an argument? She wasn't sure, but she definitely preferred the replacement: a man who'd rescued 35 people on his own and helped find hundreds more in the aftermath of the Exodus disaster, a man who'd been willing to give up his _life_ to ensure that everyone else stood a chance of survival. _That_ was the Marcus Kane she'd always known he'd been capable of being.

"We'll need to pick representatives from each of the stations; farm, hydra and the rest; make sure that everyone agrees on the initial members. Once we've settled a bit more we can have elections, but they need stability at the moment."

"I agree. The two of us will work together as Co-Chancellors and we'll go from there. Every decision goes through the two of us and the rest of the council, and we need to agree unanimously. It's the only way to stop potential unrest."

Abby nodded her head in agreement; it made sense. Too many decisions in the past had been overruled by Jaha because he thought he knew better. Now wasn't the time for the citizens to be having doubts in the leaders.

"I recommend Sinclair for engineering representative; he's the most experienced person we have."

"True. I'll have a talk with him when we get back." He stood up, and motioned for her to do the same.

"Get back from where?"

"We need to go and investigate that smoke Abby. I know it doesn't look good from here, but I think the sooner we find out who or what made it, the sooner we can make relevant decisions. Sinclair's attempting to find out if it's the hundred or another station; he should have some sort of answer within the hour. There should be enough light left in the day to make our way across to the site and see what's there."

She knew he was right, knew that they needed to find out what was going on. If it was another station there were likely to be injured people and if it was the hundred… well, she didn't want to know what could have caused that amount of smoke. Her thoughts drifted to Clarke again; she prayed they'd find her, that she was safe and that the lack of communication from the ground in recent days had a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"Did you think to sort yourself out before you starting helping everyone else?" He asked suddenly, moving to stand in front of her.

"What do you mean?"

He gestured for her to sit, and indicated her forehead.

"You've got a cut," he said simply, leaning over to pick up a piece of clean cloth. He dipped it in some wound wash he picked up from the table, and held it in his hand. "Looks pretty deep."

"I'm sure it's fine," Abby said, looking warily at the fabric. Kane merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"And the large amount of dried blood down your face? A new fashion statement?"

Abby had the grace to blush and sat still as Kane carefully wiped the dried blood from her face, then cautiously cleaned the wound on her forehead. He deemed it unnecessary to have stitches, the blood having made it look worse than it was. He did, however, ghost his fingertips over the wound, as if his touch could bind the skin back together. The gesture was fairly intimate, she thought, looking up at him as he traced the damp material across her face. His bandaged left hand held her cheek to keep her in place, the material scratching but she paid it no mind. She had never dreamed that Marcus Kane of all people would be helping her out like this. The whole situation seemed surreal.

Suddenly he seemed to realize just how close he was, and his job seemingly finished, took a step back. He didn't break eye contact though, and Abby felt the flutter again. She could still feel his hand against her cheek and it wasn't until he left, citing a need to patrol, that she raised her own hand and traced where his had lain.

A minute later Abby sighed deeply, determined to leave thoughts of what had just occurred until later. Now, though, she had a mission, and she needed to be ready.


	2. Chapter 2

Abby traipsed through the forest behind a couple of soldiers, closely following the path that Kane was forging ahead of them. The bag on her back was heavy, they'd been walking for hours and she was desperately exhausted. Still, she didn't care; they were on Earth, they had survived and now they were on their way to find out what had happened to the remaining children.

Sinclair had been working on building up some satellite imagery of the surrounding area. It was a definite work in progress, but the fact of the matter was that he'd been able to relay to both Kane and Abby that the site from which the smoke was originating was too small to have been caused by a station falling to Earth. Between that and the fact that he hadn't been able to pick up a radio signal (which should have still been operational even if no one was alive to answer it) narrowed down the options somewhat. They were all convinced that the site was the home of the hundred. Despite the elation that Abby felt that they'd found Clarke's home, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that something had likely gone terribly wrong in order to cause the billowing trail of smoke that danced across the treetops.

Abby shook herself from her thoughts and looked up. It was no good speculating about what they might find. She'd been troubled enough over the last few days dreaming up different scenarios; now that they were this close, worrying herself would likely end up in her having a complete breakdown. She was reluctant to do that in front of the company she was currently keeping.

Kane had stopped up ahead, his gun resting loosely in his hands as he lifted up a tree branch to let her pass under.

"Thanks," she said as she passed him.

"Not at all," he replied, before falling into step beside her. He paused, before speaking quietly, his tone almost hesitant. "Abby… I'm not sure what we'll see when we get to the camp."

She'd known this conversation was coming, had sensed his concern in the way he'd been looking back at her more frequently the closer they got to the camp.

"I know, I just…I have to be there. I need to know the truth. I can't spend the rest of my life not knowing what happened to her Marcus."

He seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he remained silent, just gestured for her to continue walking. Abby didn't comment as he silently placed his hand against her lower back and kept it there as they walked; the touch a reassurance as they continued on their path.

* * *

She recognized the smell even before their small team entered the camp. During her time on the Ark Abby had had to deal with many electrical fires, and you never _ever_ forgot the smell of burning flesh. It ingrained itself on your mind so much that all you could do was attempt to ignore it. The battered and destroyed walls that led to where the hundred had been gave way to an open area, covered in the bones and burnt corpses of at least 50 people. The drop ship that had delivered her daughter to the ground stood eerily silent in the middle of the camp.

Abby stumbled as she entered, knowing that some of the remains her gaze fell upon were of the children they had sent down. In the back of her mind her twisted subconscious told her that one of them could be Clarke, that her baby had died a painful and horrific death. A slight pressure on her back caused her to look up, and she watched as Kane swung his gun over his shoulder and reached out a steadying hand, his palm resting on her forearm. He kept his grip light, just enough to steady her and she was thankful for his touch. Abby wasn't sure if she could face being here now that the reality of the situation was sinking in. She didn't know if she was strong enough to face going through the broken pieces of the camp. What the hell had happened to cause this much destruction?

Kane quietly ordered his team to look for survivors before taking Abby's hand in his own and leading her to a quiet spot outside of the gate, out of view of the camp and the destruction.

"Abby?" he asked quietly, looking down at her, concern written across his features. Her gaze was still focused on the entrance to the camp, mind racing. She felt herself giving over to panic, unable to stop it from overwhelming her. "Abby," Kane whispered, resting his injured hand on the side of her cheek and bringing her gaze to his. "Calm down…breathe." There wasn't any judgment in his eyes, no frustration at her state, just worry.

"I'm ok," she whispered after a few rounds of deep breaths, her eyes darting from his to the entrance and back again. She wasn't ok, she _knew_ she wasn't ok; how could _any_ of this be ok? "It's just… I can't… what do you think happened?"

The pressure from his fingers still lingered on her hand and his gentle squeeze brought her some small comfort. She returned the touch, reluctant to break the contact. Somehow this man's presence had become a steadying lifeline for her and she needed it now more than ever.

"Clearly there was an attack. I imagine that the Grounders finally made an appearance and the hundred fought. And they fought hard," he said determinedly as he looked around at the scene before them before looking back at her. "They'd set up good defenses, I saw a couple of foxholes on the way here; they were prepared for the attack Abby."

"So where are they?" Abby questioned, looking beyond him to the drop ship behind them.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, watching as one of his men walked quickly towards them. Abby reluctantly released Kane's hand and waited for news. She could tell by the look on the guard's face that it wasn't likely to be positive.

"It's not good sir," the young man started, confirming Abby's suspicions. "We've not found any survivors and the camp has been completely decimated. It looks like there was a massive explosion or a fire… there's barely anything left."

Neither Abby nor Kane replied, both of them trying to process the information.

"Anything else of note?" The man beside her eventually asked.

"There was something sir, but we aren't sure how significant it is."

The man beckoned them to follow and Abby braced herself to enter the scene once more. As they stood in front of the drop ship the younger man picked up a small metal object and passed it to Kane, who turned it over in his hands.

"We found a few of these across the camp Sir, but we're not sure what they are."

Kane nodded and dismissed the younger soldier, tasking him with collecting any other valuable information.

Abby peered at the piece of metal, and saw that it was a canister.

"What is it for?" she asked, looking up at Kane.

"I'm not sure. It looks like a grenade, but if it was explosive it wouldn't be intact. I guess it probably had some sort of gas within it."

"But the children never told us they'd found this kind of weaponry and…" Abby started, but paused as soon as she saw the look on Kane's face. "What is it Marcus?"

He didn't say anything in reply, just handed her the canister and pointed at what looked to be some lettering. It was faded; obviously an old piece of equipment but the lettering was just about readable.

Abby gasped as she deciphered the text in front of her: _**Property of Mt. Weather Auxiliary Force**_. She looked up at the man beside her in shock.

"But Mount Weather was supposed to be unoccupied…"

"Evidently it wasn't. I suppose some survivors made it before the bombs reached here and managed to stay alive just as we did on the Ark." He paused, turning around to face the mountain in question. "At least we know where the rest of the hundred are… they've been taken."

* * *

Three hours later, as they arrived back at the camp, Abby wandered along the edge of the water towards the nearby trees, leaving Kane to deal with the inevitable questions from the other survivors. Despite the fact that they'd agreed to lead their group together, it had taken one understanding look from him to let her know that he would handle this situation on his own, leaving Abby free to process everything they'd seen that afternoon. She'd been almost silent on the hike back, and Marcus has stuck steadfastly by her side, seemingly happy to maintain the quiet understanding they now had. The two of them had never spent that long in each other's company without arguing before; it was definitely a sign that things had changed between them.

As she walked away she could hear the start of celebrations back at the camp, as if the other survivors had finally realized that they'd made it to Earth after all, despite the news of the hundred they'd just received.

Abby found a quiet spot that was still in sight of the camp and settled against a tree. She leant her head back and stared up into the sky, taking in the beauty of the stars from a brand new perspective. Thelonious was up there somewhere on his own, she realized, drifting in space as his people began the hard task of re-settling on Earth. She wondered what he was doing, how he was spending his last hours alive.

Her thoughts shifted, inevitably, to Kane and his attempted sacrifice on the station hours earlier. She wondered what Marcus would have done, how he would have handled the solitude, the inevitability of his death. Abby decided she didn't want to think about it, instead choosing to reflect on how Marcus' attitude had changed recently, not only towards herself but towards the mission to save as many people on the Ark as possible. Sinclair had revealed, before Kane had joined them on the drop ship, that the sole remaining councilor had spent his perceived remaining hours desperately trying to find a solution. The old Marcus wouldn't have done that – he would have accepted the fate of the Ark and let that be that.

A cough broke her out of her reverie and she instinctively knew who her companion was without looking up.

"Hey," she said simply, continuing to gaze up at the night sky as he settled beside her.

"Hello," he answered, and Abby watched out of the corner of her eye as he offered her something. She turned to face him for the first time and smiled, taking what appeared to be a steaming mug. "I saw you leave. You shouldn't be out here alone Abby." There was a trace of concern in his voice.

"I just needed some time to process I think, but thank you." Abby replied, not acknowledging that he was right about being alone as she accepted the drink. She stared into the mug, unable to tell what precisely it contained. "What is it?"

"It's supposed to be coffee, but judging by the look and smell it's the last of the rations that even the engineers on the Ark wouldn't touch." Kane sighed somewhat melodramatically as he settled down next to her, mimicking her pose against the tree. "Still, it's hot and I think we all need a little bit of caffeine and warmth after what we've been through today."

"You keep bringing me drinks Kane," she commented suddenly. "You'd better be careful or I might get the impression you care about me."

She knew she was treading a thin line; something _had_ changed between them recently, there was no denying it. His actions after the Exodus disaster and her own on the drop ship mere hours ago were testament to that. She'd never been so worried about potentially losing him before he'd made his decision to sacrifice himself. She figured they'd probably have to broach the subject at some point, and now seemed a good a time as any. Kane, rather frustratingly, refused to rise to the bait.

"Well," he admitted, fighting back a chuckle and a small smile gracing his lips, "if I don't look after you, who will? I can't just have my co-commander pass out because she forgot to drink anything. Come on, drink up; you look freezing."

Abby realized then how cold she had become, wrapping her hands around the mug and watching as the steam drifted away into the night. She took a sip and frowned as Kane's assessment was right; it was vile, and tasted nothing like coffee but she immediately felt a little warmer. After a minute she returned to her previous position, looking up into the sky. She and Marcus were silent for a few minutes before he spoke, his voice quiet.

"He's a good man."

"I know," Abby agreed. She paused before she continued, her own voice as soft as his own had been. "So are you."

He scoffed slightly at that and raised an eyebrow at her before he focused his gaze on the ground in front of him.

"I'm hardly a good man Abby. All of the things I've done, all the people I've…"

She stopped him by turning to face him, her hand on his chest and shaking her head.

"You _are_ a good man Marcus. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for all of us today. Just because Thelonious got there before you does not mean your intentions were any less noble."

Marcus was quiet, his gaze focused on his bandaged hand. Abby noticed where his focus lay and nudged him slightly, remembering just how he had received the injury.

"You saved me, after the Exodus. The old Marcus would never have done that."

"I'd like to think I would have," he replied gruffly, his voice almost betraying the insult he felt.

"This is the same man who had me arrested twice in the course of three weeks and was willing to float me at a moment's notice..."

He laughed slightly at that. The noise eased some of the tension and Abby relaxed.

"True, but I was _trying _to do my job at the time. I thought following the law was paramount, that there was no other way to defend and protect us. That and you confessed in a room of 20 people; you didn't leave me much of a choice."

"So what changed?"

There was no hesitation in his voice as he answered.

"The culling. If I'd just waited, listened to you…"

Abby shook her head again, leaning on him gently and taking his hand in her own, entwining their fingers. The two of them stared at their hands but neither offered a comment.

"You weren't to know - no one was to know. I had a blind faith in Raven not actual evidence. And the culling wasn't solely your decision Marcus; others were culpable too."

"Still," he sighed, "If I'd just had more faith in you, I could have saved them. If it wasn't for the culling, then Sydney wouldn't have had to plot, plant a bomb and kill all those innocent people… my mother would still…" He stopped, unsure of what else to say. Abby found she didn't know how to respond either, so she squeezed his hand in support and rested her head on his shoulder; her cup of coffee forgotten, instead choosing to take heat and comfort from the man beside her. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of them watching the moon trace a path slowly across the sky.

"We can't change the past Marcus," she offered eventually, when the noise from the camp in the distance had settled to a quiet murmur. "We can only move forward. We have a chance to survive here, to live here, and to forge a new future for the human race. We need to concentrate on that, not the troubles that lie behind us."

Her head still rested on his shoulder, and she felt him nod his head slowly in response.

"You're right," he replied. "We are survivors and we need to continue to survive."

"We need to find the children too. They can't all have disappeared Marcus. We need to discover what happened and how Mount Weather is involved."

"I agree," Marcus said determinedly, squeezing her hand again. "And we'll find Clarke, Abby. I'm sure of it."

"How can you be sure? You saw their camp, the bodies..."

"I have faith," he said simply. "I have faith in your belief that she's alive and I have faith that she's as strong as her mother when it comes to surviving almost impossible situations. She's out there Abby, the others are out there and we _will_ get them back. I promise."

As if to seal his promise he turned towards her and placed his hand against her cheek. It felt warm despite the cool of the night air and Abby leaned into the touch. Kane pulled her towards him slowly and Abby was convinced he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pressure of his lips on her own, but it never came. Instead, she felt the lightest of touches against her forehead before he pulled away. He didn't push her to talk about it afterwards, just offered his shoulder and the comfort of his presence as they continued to gaze into the night sky. Abby smiled, knowing that he couldn't see her face, deciding that if she had Kane and a little bit of faith they might just be ok here; that they might just find the children - that they might find Clarke. And that, above all else, they would survive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: **I'm note _entirely_ satisfied with this chapter, but I want to move the story on to more interesting places so I'm uploading it anyway!

Let me know what you think :)

Chapter summary: Abby and Kane learn that peace in the camp is not to be taken for granted...

* * *

Abby stood, relaxed, staring out onto the lake. A couple of the men from Farm station had put together a rudimentary boat and were testing out their fishing nets. If there proved to be fish in the lake it would provide another valuable food source - it was an exciting prospect. She breathed in the fresh air, closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of the cool breeze against her skin; three weeks on Earth and the remarkable feeling that they were actually here had still to fully sink in.

It hadn't taken long for the Mecha survivors to develop a routine on Earth. When the final plans to travel to Earth had been announced, plenty of thought and consideration had gone into dividing up a range of skilled personnel from across the Ark between the various stations. It had been a practical yet solemn job; everyone had known the stakes, that no-one was guaranteed to arrive safely so the more widespread the experts were, the greater the chance that useful workers in all areas would be able to plant their feet on solid ground. Abby and Kane found that they were able to delegate tasks in all of the key areas due to Thelonious' forward planning.

Kane had immediately taken over all aspects of security, while Abby had focused her own efforts on developing and maintaining a suitable medical facility. Sinclair had been duly made Head of Engineering and promoted to the council, while similar positions had been filled across the remaining stations. Everything was starting to run smoothly, much to Abby's relief. The remaining survivors had taken the announcement of her and Kane's 'leadership' well and she suspected that the fact they were running the camp together rather than individually had led to the large amount of support. Many of the survivors respected the fact that they were allowed more of an input into the running of the camp, and some of them had personally commented to her that Kane's 'no secret' policy was incredibly appreciated.

There was a quiet noise behind her, the telltale sound of a snapping twig reaching her ears, and she didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Still, she did anyway, raising a hand slightly in greeting before turning back to her vigil of the lake.

He'd been seeking her out more and more often over the last few weeks, especially since their late night reflections after the discovery of the hundred's camp. She wasn't sure whether it was because he needed the support and reassurance of her company or if he felt that she needed the same. Regardless, she appreciated the fact that he sought her out; their budding friendship was becoming more and more important to her. The thought brought a small, almost dreamy smile to her lips.

"Are you alright?" She heard Marcus ask as he approached her, stopping as he stood next to her. He had a slight look of concern on his face.

"Hmm?"

"You seem distracted," he paused, taking the opportunity to take a drink from his flask. "I worry when you're distracted."

"And why is that Marcus?" She'd decided that he was slowly shifting from Kane to Marcus in her head; an inevitable result of their friendship she presumed. He was always "Kane" in front of others, but more and more frequently he was "Marcus" when they were alone. It seemed silly, but it was a surprisingly big development in their friendship.

"Because it normally means you're plotting something and I end up having to arrest you." There was a hint of humor in his voice, and a gentle smile graced his face.

She scoffed instinctively, before realizing he was right.

"You haven't arrested me _that_ often; I thought we'd established that."

"True, but you have to admit, twice in 3 weeks _did_ look like an emerging pattern."

He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to disagree.

"Yes, well, I think we can both admit that we made some mistakes while on the Ark."

Marcus nodded slightly in agreement and continued to stare out towards the lake. Then, suddenly, he leant in, his breath hot in her ear and his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

"Come on, there's no time for loitering today; we have a council meeting that you're officially late for."

He didn't say anything else, just turned and began ambling back towards the main part of the camp. He kept his pace slow, clearly anticipating her joining him on the short journey.

Abby felt herself blush, annoyed that his presence was clearly beginning to affect her. It was faintly ridiculous, and she put it to the back of her mind as she gave the lake one more look and rushed to catch up with Kane.

* * *

Abby sighed as she and the other council members looked over a map of the immediate area. They were attempting to plot out a basic site for construction purposes, their plans already looking to the future.

While it was true that some things were to be constructed in logical places there was still some debate as to where other aspects of the settlement should be and where the priorities should lie. There were, as usual, disagreements. Sometimes, Abby thought, it felt like they'd never left the Ark at all. The council members may have changed, but the arguments, she supposed, would always remain.

It was just like old times, with Kane glowering at her slightly across the table. At least now he was more willing to take in everything she said, allowing her time to explain her reasoning. On the Ark he'd always been quick to dismiss her ideas and projections, normally out of principal rather than as an actual objection.

He had acquiesced earlier to her demands for more security patrols, but had stood by his statement that they should delay their expedition to Mount Weather. Eventually they had agreed that they needed more time to get the lay of the land; there was no point charging up to Mount Weather demanding answers when it was possible that the inhabitants were crazy, hostile or a horrible mixture of the two.

She had reluctantly agreed. While it was entirely possible that Clarke and the others were in grave danger, her priority _had_ to be the survivors that surrounded her every day. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't willingly risk the lives of the last vestiges of the human race on the off chance that whoever was stationed in Mount Weather would be friendly and willing to just release their prisoners. Abby had let the subject drop as soon as Kane promised her that he would send a couple of smaller patrols to investigate the area; at least with fewer men there was a smaller risk that something would go wrong.

Abby suddenly realized that Kane was staring at her, an eyebrow raised as if waiting for a reply.

"Sorry," she said quietly, forcing herself not to blush at Marcus' intense look. She had registered the question, but her thoughts had temporarily distracted her. "I believe the most practical place for the gardens would be mid way between the river and the forest..."

She talked through her reasoning, explaining everything in detail and taking in the individual reactions of the other council members as the next round of debate started.

Abby noticed, however, that Marcus didn't take his eyes off her for the rest of the meeting.

* * *

It was, of course, inevitable that the peace of their new home would be ruined at some point. The disruption came, as some had feared, in the form of Grounders.

They attacked in the middle of the day. Whether it was because they were unaware of the camp's presence or because they didn't care Abby wasn't sure, but the fight that had ensued had shattered all the illusions that they were safe. They had all taken the quiet of the previous weeks for granted, had maybe been complacent about the lack of threats. Abby realized, looking back on the incident, that they should have seen it coming.

It had been frightening to watch a small horde of warriors approach at full speed and it was only due to Marcus and his soldier's quick response that their attackers were driven away quickly and no-one had been seriously injured. Abby had dealt with the questions and the numerous states of shock from the survivors; they'd all been pretty shaken up by the attack and it had taken her most calm reassurances to ensure that everyone was satisfied with the security of the camp. Still, the fact that the Grounders now knew where they were was an extremely worrying thought; it constantly played on Abby's mind.

"They're bold, I'll give them that," Marcus commented later that day they sat at the council table they'd erected in Security. The two of them had called an emergency meeting to discuss the security of the camp in light of the attack.

"It's as if they didn't care that it was daylight," Sinclair agreed, frowning. He was looking at the map of the local area, various scribbles and notes marking where the Grounders had attacked from and where the camp was most vulnerable. It made for quite grim reading on reflection.

"It's a warning," Abby said resolutely. The others looked at her questioningly and she continued. "They wanted us to know that they could attack at any time; that we should never let our guard down."

"And we won't," Marcus replied determinedly, looking around the table. "I'll set up extra patrols and ensure that the perimeter of the camp is covered at all times. In the meantime, we concentrate on erecting a stronger fence around the outskirts of the camp. Any non-essential tasks are to be put on hold until it's complete."

The rest nodded in agreement.

"No unauthorized trips out of the site either," Abby added. "We can't risk our people meeting a group of Grounders while they're out there. We won't restrict movements for long, but I think it's a good idea for the meantime."

Everyone else agreed, all of them knowing that the safety of the citizens was paramount. Marcus concluded the meeting and watched as the other members disappeared. Abby remained behind and he turned to her.

"I'm worried," she started, looking up at him. "If the Grounders _do_ plan a larger attack, they have us seriously outnumbered and outgunned. We need to find more weapons, or set up more defenses further out. We need deterrents until we're better equipped to fight."

"I agree," Kane said, nodding slightly. "I'll have Sinclair research the surrounding area to determine if there are any more weapons caches nearby that we can utilize. If there are, we'll call another council meeting in the morning and discuss what we should do. If there aren't, we should still probably go through any available options."

"Good idea," Abby replied, leaning back in her chair in exhaustion. Marcus sat down into the chair next to her and leant his head back. Abby watched as he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He looked as tired as she felt and she moved over and placed a gentle hand on his forearm, giving it a light squeeze in reassurance. Marcus didn't open his eyes, but he smiled, and that was good enough for her.

As she rested in the chair she had the horrible thought that the Grounder attack had been a sign, that the quiet life in the camp was irrecoverably shattered and that things, inevitably, were about to take a turn for the worse...

* * *

Abby decided that she loved the sound of the forest. After a lifetime of constant mechanical whirring and the bustle of everyday life on the Ark, it was nice to be somewhere that felt so…open. She smiled as she spotted a small flock of birds above her, and listened to their calls as they hopped amongst the branches.

Sinclair had managed to find some old plans that gave the whereabouts to an old military bunker within a morning's hike of the camp. After a quick council meeting that morning she, Kane and two of his men had been sent to investigate in the hope that any weaponry or medical supplies had remained intact. It was a slim chance, but they all held out hope nonetheless.

Abby looked up suddenly as Kane called her name. He was standing with Abrams and Holt, two soldiers with engineering expertise, and seemed to be pointing in the direction of the thicker part of the forest.

"What's going on?" She asked as she approached, looking at the men. Sweat trickled down her forehead and she swiped at it with her sleeve while waiting for an answer.

"We're splitting up," Marcus explained, gesturing towards himself then Abrams and Holt. "We need to find the entrance to this bunker and return to camp before dark. We can cover more ground this way."

It made sense, Abby thought. The two teams would be able to stay in radio contact while separated and they _did_ need to find the potential cache as quickly as possible.

Abby watched as Kane sent the other two men in one direction and then gestured for her to follow him.

They made small talk as they wandered through the trees together, the company pleasant and friendly as they walked. Sinclair had informed them that morning that there wasn't an exact location for the bunker's entrance - the co-ordinates having been lost decades ago. Still, he'd been able to narrow down the search area so Abby was confident that it would only be a matter of time until they found it.

She was joking with Kane about something a young patient had said to her the day before when she heard it; a rustling that was too big for an animal but clearly something dangerous. She jumped as Kane turned suddenly, swinging his gun in the direction of the trees, his stance tense and eyes alert; something was wrong.

The relative peace of the forest was suddenly broken when the sound of gunfire sounded in the distance; clearly the others had run into danger too.

"Abby!" Kane whispered harshly, trying to get her attention. She was frozen in place, wary of moving, of causing a disturbance or catching the notice of whoever was following them. He reached out then, quickly taking her hand and pulling her sharply towards him. She would have been angry at the gesture had a spear not flown through the area where she had once stood. Abby's eyes were wide in fear; who the Hell was out there?

Marcus still had hold of her hand and he pulled her roughly towards a couple of trees in the opposite direction from where the spear had originated. He pressed her back against the bark, shielding her body with his own, his eyes looking down at her, warning her to stay silent.

Adrenaline flowed through her and Abby felt her heart racing. She couldn't tell if it was from the fear of attack or the fact that Marcus Kane had her pressed against a tree in a pretty intimate position. She decided it was a mixture of the two, and cursed herself for thinking of such ridiculous things while they were in obvious danger. His hands rested on her hips, keeping her in place while he listened for any noise. Abby could smell him, could feel his chest pressed against hers as he took deep breaths; it was all too much and she felt panic start to take over. The hands that held her hips squeezed slightly and she felt rather than heard his faint _"Calm down Abby, we'll be ok, just calm down."_

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming herself as Marcus took a slight step back and gathered his rifle in his hands. He was looking around, trying to pinpoint the source of the attack. She opened her eyes when he said her name.

"Take this!" He whispered, and she reached out to take the small handgun he offered her. "Do _not_ hesitate to use it!"

She nodded her acknowledgement and didn't protest as he gestured for her to stay hidden behind the tree that offered her at least some sort of cover. She tried to grab him as he moved away from the tree, but he shook his head at her. He was a soldier; it was his duty to protect, and at the moment he needed to protect her.

Her breath seemed too loud as she hid, and she couldn't see Kane. Abby bent her head carefully round the side of the tree and spotted him; alert and ready.

It didn't last.

She screamed as something flew out of the trees and stuck Marcus on the side of his head. The force of the impact caused him to slump to the floor immediately and Abby, ignoring his previous instructions, flew from her cover and raced towards him.

She spotted something else fly out of the undergrowth at her and suddenly she felt pain; excruciating, horrendous pain, and she looked down to see that her side was bleeding. She saw the glint of metal from the corner of her eye and she moved instinctively, raising the gun and firing all the bullets she could, not caring about where she aimed, just hoping to protect herself and Marcus for at least a little while. A yell echoed through to her from the trees and she waited, silent, for what seemed like an eternity.

As soon as she was sure that they were safe for the moment, Abby fell to her knees beside Kane. Bright red blood flowed from a deep cut in his head and she reached out and clutched his hand, trying to feel desperately for a pulse. She needed to save him, needed to help him… but she found she couldn't and she quickly collapsed into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Bit of an angst fest in this chapter; sorry (not sorry ;D)

I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think :)

* * *

He woke to Abby's voice lulling him into consciousness. His head ached terribly and his vision was blurred as he carefully opened his eyes. Marcus fought back a wave of nausea as he tried to focus on her voice, the hushed sound reverberating painfully in his head as it reached his ears. They were still in the middle of the forest from what he could tell, although it seemed darker than when he'd been knocked out. He wondered idly how much time had passed. Abby moved into his field of vision and he peered at her, attempting to focus on her face. A trail of blood streaked down her cheek and he wondered just who it belonged to; she didn't look injured from his quick once over. He suddenly felt something constricting his head, and he reached a slightly shaking hand up, feeling the scratchy material of a tightly wound bandage. He groaned as he applied pressure and felt the pain that his head wound was causing.

"Marcus?" he heard Abby whisper, her voice now more soothing, and yet he could detect a trace of fear in her tone. He was immediately on alert. "Come on, we need to get out of here."

He struggled to sit up, his vision still blurring and his head pounding. Abby supported him as he moved, one hand pressed against his back and the other clutching his arm. Marcus sat still for a few seconds, swallowing back the bile that threatened to creep up his throat; he really didn't feel right.

"What happened? I remember being ambushed and gunfire, but very little else." His voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk. He rested with his head between his knees, waiting impatiently as the urge to be sick passed over him again.

"Grounders," Abby replied, moving in front of him. She rested her hand on his cheek, encouraging him to lift his head from its current position so that she could check his eyes. "I'm not sure how many… I shot one and there were at least two more..." She became suddenly silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. She continued quietly, her voice thick with emotion. "I think Abrams and Holt are dead. I heard more gunfire and some screams while you were unconscious. Neither of them is answering their radio. I wanted to try and find them, help them if I could, but I... I couldn't leave you…" Her voice trailed off as she spoke, her tone laced with guilt that she'd put his needs above those of his men.

He didn't know what to say, so he nodded, instantly regretting it when another wave of nausea flowed through him. Abby seemed to sense his discomfort and she shifted closer to him again.

"Easy," she muttered, placing her hand back on his arm to steady him. "I think you've got a concussion."

"I'd say so," he replied shortly, before he looked at her remorsefully. "Sorry. It just feels like my head is going to explode."

"It's ok, I understand. You should be fine, but I think we need to get somewhere safe. I'm not sure how long we were unconscious for but…"

"Hold on," Marcus interrupted, looking at her sternly, "…'we?' Abby, are you ok? Why didn't you say something?"

"I'm fine Marcus, honestly."

He looked at her incredulously, folding his arms and staring at her. She sighed and leant back slightly, lifting the edge of her shirt to reveal a smooth white bandage. It stretched across her ribs, and from what he could tell it had been hastily applied; the edges of the tape keeping it pressed against her skin frayed and already beginning to peel. His hand subconsciously reached out to touch it, to prove to himself that she was ok, but his fingers stopped inches from her skin, realizing that it wasn't his place. He coughed and shook his head to break out of his thoughts before shifting back slightly and looking up at the woman sat beside him, a questioning expression on his face.

"Abby," he asked, glancing down to her now covered wound, "did you get shot?"

She shook her head and smiled grimly before she responded.

"No, I got swiped by something but the wound wasn't that deep. It wasn't too bad, it just aches now." She paused and looked up through the trees, as if trying to track the position of the sun from their spot on the forest floor. The shadows were longer now, Marcus noted, and a hush was beginning to fall over the surrounding area as the wildlife began to settle in for the night.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Abby continued talking, turning to face him once more. "I'm more concerned about finding some shelter. I think it's nearly dusk and I don't want to travel all the way back to camp with your concussion. Plus, I'm not sure if our attackers will be back any time soon. We scared them off, but you know how determined the Grounders can be."

Marcus looked dubious but reluctantly agreed. His head was still pounding and he was feeling increasingly dizzy, but Abby was right, there was no way that they could stay where they were; it was just asking for trouble.

"What about our radio?" He asked, suddenly remembering their need to communicate with the camp. If they could just get through to Sinclair then they could send medical assistance and extra guards; he and Abby could be out of there in a couple of hours at most.

"Broken," she admitted, pulling out the communication device from her bag. She was right, it was broken; the antennae had been snapped off and the main case had been dented and crushed beyond repair. "I think it was damaged in the attack." She passed it to him so that Marcus could inspect it for himself.

"Damn it," he muttered, turning the device over in his hands before looking at her. "If I remember rightly there should be a small cave system due East of here. We've scouted it before. It's empty, and I don't think it's far. We can shelter there for the night and work out what our next plan of action is. Clearly we're not going to be able to get in touch with the camp, but hopefully they'll soon figure out that we're missing and send out a search party."

He knew it was wishful thinking, and judging by what he assumed was a matching expression on Abby's face, both of them were aware of the fact. Still, it would do no good to presume the worst now. Marcus knew he needed to recover from his concussion, and he was sure that Abby would want to redress her own injury, despite her protestations that it wasn't that bad.

The woman beside him suddenly sighed despondently, as if she knew that they were in for a rough time of it. She reached out and squeezed his arm one more time in reassurance and gestured towards the depths of the forest.

"C'mon," she muttered, standing up and reaching over to help him up. "Let's go."

It was slow going, with Marcus' nausea threatening to become an issue every few paces. Abby seemed to be struggling with her own injury as well, judging by the grimaces that crossed her face as she walked by his side. Marcus didn't comment on it though; he'd just convince her to let him check it over when they reached safety.

* * *

Darkness had fallen by the time they found the small outcropping of rock indicating the cave entrance. Marcus shone his flashlight into the opening, and quickly judged it to be safe.

"I don't think we should risk a fire," he said, sitting down wearily against the wall of the cave, throwing his pack to his right; the impact echoing in the quiet of the night. "If there _are_ Grounders out there looking for us, we don't want to telegraph our position. It should be a mild night so we probably won't need it anyway."

Abby agreed readily and sat down next to him, using the flashlight to check where she was going.

"I need you to stay awake as long as possible Marcus," she told him, peering at him in the near darkness. "But if you _do _fall asleep, I'll have to wake you every couple of hours to make sure you're okay. Concussions can be dangerous, and you're too much trouble to replace now."

He chuckled, grinning at her good natured teasing.

"That's fine; I'm not feeling particularly drowsy at the moment. Do you want to have a quick sleep?"

She shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine," she whispered, leaning on him slightly again. "It's _you_ I need to worry about."

He smiled softly, knowing better than to argue with her.

"You can be a pillow though," she muttered jokingly after a couple of quiet seconds, "You're more comfortable than the wall."

"I'd hope so," he replied and smiled as she automatically rested her head against his shoulder once more. He moved his arm around her back to support her and his smile broadened as she seemed to snuggle into the embrace. It brought back memories of finding her alive after the Exodus disaster. They settled into a comfortable silence, and Marcus tried not to focus too much on the feel of having her lean against him again. She was quiet, and he wondered briefly if she had dozed off after all. He couldn't check without moving her, so he settled himself again, determined to stay awake until Abby was conscious enough to allow him a few hours of sleep.

Within 10 minutes, however, Marcus knew something was wrong. Abby had begun to shiver violently, but he knew it wasn't from the cold; as he'd predicted it was a mild night, not at all uncomfortable. He reached over and placed his hand over her forehead and almost reeled back when he felt how hot she was. It wasn't right; she was burning up.

He moved quickly, shifting her carefully so she was lying flat on the floor of the cave. Abby didn't stir, didn't complain, didn't make any kind of movement to suggest that she felt him change their position; it immediately threw Marcus into a sense of panic – what was wrong with her?

He bent over her, his nausea temporarily forgotten as he carefully lifted the edge of her shirt, all the while keeping an eye on her face to see if she regained consciousness. The bandage that had been pure white a couple of hours ago was now covered in blood and Marcus peeled it away slowly, readying another clean patch of cloth to cover her injury if it was still weeping.

"Shit," he commented as he spotted the wound. While it wasn't bleeding as much any more, there was a jagged edge to the tear in her skin, and Abby had obviously attempted to stitch it up herself, despite the awkward positioning of the injury. The wound itself was a deep and angry red, and Marcus knew enough about medical issues to know that it there was a likelihood it could go septic… obviously whatever had grazed her had been laced with something; a poison maybe. He swept a frustrated hand through his hair and stared down at her. Of _course_ she'd ignored her own injuries to take care of him, had placed his welfare before her own.

"Damn it, you are _such_ a stubborn woman sometimes," he muttered under his breath, glaring down at Abby as if his frustration would miraculously heal her in an instant. He cleaned the wound as best he could; drying it carefully before applying another bandage. He knew the damage could already be done though, that blood poisoning could have set in, that she could be dying. He wouldn't allow that to happen, not when they'd come so far.

But he didn't know how to treat this, not really. There was a reason he was a soldier and not a doctor. Marcus knew that he needed to cool her down, to try and break the fever before he did anything else. He reached frantically into his pack and grabbed his flask, soaking another piece of fresh cloth, wringing it out and placing it on her forehead. The water was lukewarm but it would have to do; he had no access to cooler liquid and they were miles away from a larger body of water.

"Abby?" he whispered, trying to awaken her. He knew that if she was conscious then he could talk to her; reassure her that she'd be ok, even ask her what to do. He felt helpless and his headache had come back with a vengeance. He was exhausted and desperate to sleep, but right now he could think of nothing else but keeping Abby alive and trying to heal her.

"Come on Abby," he muttered, reaching over and taking her slick hands in his, "stay with me."

She didn't reply, just moaned again, the sound ripping through his heart and sending shivers down his spine. Marcus knew she was in pain and another wave of panic and desperation rushed through him. He was going to lose her, she was going to _die_ and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He clutched her hand again, linking their fingers together and ignoring the way her sweaty palm slipped against his own, how warm it felt, how it _burned_ against his skin. He raised their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her knuckles, not caring if she woke up and saw him this vulnerable. At that moment he'd do anything to see her awake again, even if it was just to glare at him.

"Please," he whispered, looking down at her, sweeping her sweat soaked hair away from her forehead. "Don't leave me here Abby. Not when I've just found you."

Marcus knew he sounded pathetic, knew he was desperate, but there was a pull in his gut that emerged every time he was near Abigail Griffin. He wasn't sure what it meant, but she was the closest thing to a friend he had on this planet and he'd be damned if he let her slip away in some tiny cave in the middle of nowhere because of his own inadequacies. Not with Clarke still out there. Not with their plans to run the camp together, to lead as partners. Not when there was something undefined but _important_ between them.

He bent his head over her body, resting his forehead on their linked hands, and slowly closed his eyes. He silently prayed for what seemed like the first time in years, opening his eyes as he mouthed the words to look down at the sick woman below him. He could _do_ this, he could… no… he _would_ save her.

An hour passed and her shivers continued, each accompanying moan of pain hitting Marcus in the gut like a bullet. He replaced the cool compress against her head as often as he could, but he was quickly running out of water. Marcus knew he needed to get in touch with the camp, to get someone out here to help, but with the broken radio it was a lost cause. His only other option was to walk back with Abby, to carry her, but that wasn't a good option either. They were too vulnerable, and he still hadn't recovered from his own concussion; he was in no state for hiking through thick, unknown forest, especially in the dead of night. They'd just have to wait it out. Marcus just hoped that Abby was as strong in fighting this as she was in everything else; she needed all the help she could get if she was to survive the night.

He ignored his own exhaustion and kept a careful watch over her, keeping track of every movement, every shiver, every groan of pain that emanated from her. Marcus kept a vigil through the night, changing her bandage as the previous one bloodied and tried to keep her comfortable.

The hours ticked by, the time moving at a painfully slow pace, and Marcus soon sensed that dawn was approaching. His head was pounding and he could barely keep his eyes open, his own exhaustion rushing over him in waves. Abby's shivers had lessened in the last couple of hours but she was so _pale_ and her temperature was still way too high, her skin continued to burn him ever time his fingers traced her forehead. He'd run out of water long ago and he was down to his last bandage. There was nothing else he could do, no back-up plan, no last minute reprieve. He had to have faith that Abby would be strong enough to fight, to survive. Marcus had lost all other hope.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he too slipped into unconsciousness again, that he had overexerted himself on the trek here and through his overnight vigil. He didn't regret a moment of it, of his attempt to save her, but he knew, as he felt the darkness slip into the edges of his already blurry vision, that Abby was slipping away, that he _was_ losing her.

That he'd failed her at the most important time, just when she'd needed him the most…


End file.
